I’ve gotten so I have to spend at least one day a month on a farm, and today was that day. I went out to Jenna’s Cold Antler Farm for shearing day. I’m starting to know my way around, know how to find things, get a feel for how to pitch in without being in the way. I get such a charge out of doing simple little things, like carrying water to the chickens and rabbits. This farming thing feeds my soul.
Jenna is like a farming enabler. She’s taking the courageous step of leaving her desk job to make a go of it, farming and writing full-time. If you’ve never checked out her blog, please go give it a whirl. She’s honest and real and inspiring. She doesn’t make farming look all shiny, perfect and Martha Stewart-ish. There is dirt and mud and poop and screwing up. There is also miracle and joy.
We may never have a self-supporting farm. But this life is in my blood, I can feel it. The farming bug skipped a generation in my dad, but it seems to have come out strong in me. So far, we have chickens in the backyard, herbs and veggies and little fruit trees, home brewing and more. We’ll add to it, a piece at a time, finding joy and meaning in this life.